String Theory
by LilyGhost
Summary: The mood Stephanie's in due to an annoying conversation, led to an extremely promising one between she and Ranger soon after.


**Everyone and anything familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone. **

"Joe's wrong. You don't have pull over _any _of my strings," I told Ranger, still pissed that Morelli thinks any guy controls what I do or feel.

I've been doing everything I can to avoid the jerk, but having to drop my FTAs off at the police station, and Joe stinking up the place by still working there, makes occasional interactions inevitable, especially when he plans them. Something in me won't let him change how I do my job, or I'd just trade a favor for a ride and ask one of the guys to do the station runs for me.

"You're in complete charge of yourself, Babe, but I _can_ tug a few of your strings my way."

"But _only _because I really _want _and _welcome _your tugs."

He didn't grin, but I could tell he was thinking about it. "Glad to hear it."

"I'm being serious here. I'm really, really, mad about this."

He caught my wrist as I stalked by his chair during another angry lap around his kitchen, and he did a little more tugging to get me sitting pretty comfortably on his lap despite how hard his entire body is.

"I know you're angry, but let me ask you this ... why does what Morelli spews matter to you?"

"It - and he - doesn't matter to me at all, but I hate the fact that he trivializes what you and I have. And I really, _really_, _REALLY_, despise that he believes that I can't think for myself ... that I'm so dumb, I can only manage to do what I'm told to."

"And I repeat the question. You and I know that can't be further from our truth, so why do you care?"

I paused and really thought about it. "You're right. What _do _I care what he says? More importantly, the fact that he keeps trying to get in my head means _he's _the one being controlled. That _I'm _the one he's focusing so much of his energy on, means _he's _the crazy one too."

Ranger crossed his beefy arms over my chest in a comforting yet sexy squeeze. "That's a much better and healthier way of thinking."

"You may take that comment back when I tell you what I'm thinking now. Everyone continues to speculate on what I'm up to now or when you're going to get tired of me, even when we've been going strong for months without you even hinting at dumping me ..."

"I'm never going to."

I _did _grin as I repeated his words back to him. "_Glad to hear it_."

"Believe it or not, Steph, I need you more than you need me."

"I don't believe that for a second, but I love you for always making me feel like I'm that important to you. As someone famous has said, I think we should give our doubters something to talk about since they're doing it anyway."

"Such as?"

I looped my arms around his neck and got my daily chocolate fix by looking into his dark eyes. "That's where my thinking ends. Aside from turning my phone off, or just heading to Point Pleasant, I don't have much experience in disappearing unless an unfortunate kidnapping attempt turns successful."

"Don't joke about that," he warned. "I still lose sleep over those 'disappearances'."

I moved my arms from his neck to around his shoulders for a hug while I gave him a kiss of apology.

"Sorry. I still lose sleep, too."

"I know you do," he told me. "Which is why we wound up spending so many nights together. I didn't want you suffering or worrying alone even if you weren't ready for me in a more _intimate_ capacity."

"Guess I can't complain about having insomnia or nightmares now, because both eventually got us to where we are right now."

"That's what I've been telling the ceiling for the last seven months as I hold - and keep watch over - your peacefully-sleeping body."

"Next time you can't sleep, wake me up and _tell me _stuff like that instead of the bedroom ceiling," I ordered him. "I guarantee my response to hearing it will lead to activities that'll get you sleepy at some point."

"Maybe. Back to our escape plan. Are you up for a trip to the Cayman Islands?"

I knew I heard him wrong, since his idea of a 'vacation' is hunting down terrorists in one-hundred-and-ten degree heat, not lounging around tropical islands watching me sip drinks decorated with little paper umbrellas.

"You said _Coney Island, _right?" I asked just to be sure.

"Cayman and Coney don't sound even remotely alike. You heard me correctly the first time. I can let Tank play Boss for a week and we can head South."

I didn't know what to say. I thought if he has an FTA out-of-state to apprehend, he'd maybe suggest we go get the skip together ... which _would _get us out of town, but it'd still have a business reason behind it. I never thought he'd actually plan for a week-long, _couple_-vacation that has nothing to do with work and everything to do with us getting some quiet time together.

"Before you try to talk yourself out of this, there is a logical reason to go," Ranger said, raising and then lowering his knee underneath me to jostle my body and get me out of my own head.

"Really?"

"Yes. It's said that if you go out to Stingray City and kiss one of their tourist-tolerant Stingrays ... you'll get seven years of good luck. Given your track record, those years will be beneficial."

I may have just stumbled onto one teeny flaw in an otherwise perfect-sounding vacation.

"Ummm, I'm not sure how I feel about putting my lips on something that doesn't have a set of their own. So ... what if we _do _go to this fishy city, but I kiss _you_ instead? After all, I wouldn't want to get greedy and ask for more than just being able to get out of Trenton, and then get lucky for seven straight days, with you."

"Getting lucky with me is guaranteed beyond just a week. But I'll book our flight now. You should expect a late tonight or early morning departure. _What?" _He asked when he noticed my smile, which _may _have been a tad on the evil side.

"While you work your magic on your chosen airline, I'm going to drop Rex off with Grandma Mazur instead of Ella while my mom should be out grocery shopping. My mother _not knowing something _will make sure _everyone_, including mind-fucked Morelli, _knows _that I've _done something _noteworthy."

"You come from a long line of scary women, Babe."

"I know. Thank you for loving me in spite of them."


End file.
